


Existential Angst!

by Qu_Marsh



Category: Suikoden III
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Gen, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 04:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/935572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qu_Marsh/pseuds/Qu_Marsh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite all his rage, Luc was still just an angst-ridden high school student.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Existential Angst!

The Wind Rincar was no more. The Ceremonial Site was collapsing. And as Luc watched the rubble crashing down around him, he realized that all his grandiose plans and schemes had been for naught. The Flame Champion had defeated him, and his future was lost.

" _FUCK!_ " 

He pushed the covers aside and climbed out of bed. Dammit! Even in his _dreams_ , the whole world was out to get him. It wasn't fair! Here he'd been set to have a great dream about killing everyone, and then a bunch of dumb jocks had ruined everything, just like in real life. That made him so angry that he might even destroy the world, or at least kick the furniture. 

But despite all his rage, he was still just an angsty high school freshman at Harmonia Plains High School. Not only was destroying the world well out of his means, he'd be lucky to bum a smoke off Yuber or one of the other seniors during lunch break. It was hardly a fitting existence for someone who was such a deep thinker as he was. He deserved to have magic powers and armies of monsters at his command. And yet, every time Luc tried to explain the agony of his white suburban adolescence, his shop teacher would just glare at Luc with his one good eye and tell him to grow up. But how could an old fogey like him really recognize the tragedy of Luc's life? That guy had to be, like, a hundred years old. He couldn't understand Luc. No one ever could. It was like ... like _the walls were closing in_. Or maybe like he had _wounds that would not heal_. Perhaps he was even _living a lie_. Either way, there had to be some really deep metaphor that explained the way he, and no one else in the universe ever, felt. 

Luc had just pulled his trenchcoat over his faded Tool t-shirt when his brother's head poked through the doorway. "Rise and shine, Luc! It's another bee- _yoo_ -tiful day!" 

"I hate myself and want to die." 

Sasarai waggled a finger at him. "You shouldn't spend so much time wasting away in your room, you know! While you've been snoozing, I already fed our adorable baby birds, petted the equally adorable baby bunnies, helped mom with the garden, cleaned the bathroom, and built a homeless shelter. After all, the early bird gets the worm! And Benjamin Franklin said that, 'Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man -'" 

"SHUT UP, SASARAI!" Luc exploded. Everything his brother said to him took Luc one step closer to the edge. "THE WORLD IS A VAMPIRE! I TEAR MYSELF OPEN, I SEW MYSELF SHUT! HEAD LIKE A HOLE, BLACK AS YOUR SOUL!" 

Sasarai seemed unimpressed by his brother's tirade. "Well, I'd better pack our lunches so we can get to school in time for early-morning Bible study group," he said with a bright grin. "Keep your chin up, Luc!" 

While Sasarai, whistling an old Irish song, headed for the kitchen, Luc stood in the doorway, sputtering with incoherent rage. It took him the better part of a minute to formulate a retort. "You're... you're Educated-Stupid, Sasarai!" Luc shouted at the empty hallway. "I'm never going to speak to you again! I mean it!" 

Educated-Stupid, indeed. While Luc spent English class in the back of the room filling his ratty notebook with free-verse poems about killing God, his goody two-shoes brother sat up front with that Thomas kid, asked questions, and _took notes_. Didn't Sasarai realize that enjoying school made him one of the _sheeple_? He obviously did not understand the eternal pain and darkness of algebra homework. And even if Sasarai found cause to lay awake at night, like worrying that someone might find out about the time those three kids from St. Loa Catholic Elementary beat them both up, Luc knew that his own angst and sadness was angstier and sadder than everyone else's angst and sadness. 

But Luc wouldn't let his teachers' fascist rules and regulations keep _him_ down. While Sasarai wasted his time trying to help that hick Hugo kid repair his completely fubared car, Luc would be out fighting against society's tyranny. He'd skip Spanish, walk through the halls without a pass, and leave more Rage Against the Machine lyrics in the school suggestion box! Maybe he'd even say the "F" word! Out loud! With other people listening! 

Feeling slightly more encouraged about the day's prospects, Luc made his way to the bathroom mirror to see if he'd made any overnight progress in growing a badass goatee. Alas, he hadn't; he could still barely manage stubble, let alone anything that made him look like he belonged to a German rock band. Instead, he used the mirror to practice his favorite facial expressions: the sullen glare, the anguished grimace, the anti-social glower. He'd been trying to improve his range in hopes of advancing up the ranks of Mr. Nadir's drama club. Maybe once he was a big shot in the club, he'd finally convince them to put on the play he and Albert Silverberg had written, "The Gloomy Dharma World of Eternal Black Shadows." He was sick of bit roles in sellout crap like "The Match Girl." _Real_ art challenged its audiences and had vampires. 

Luc stuck with "anti-social glower" as he brushed his teeth. His therapist, Ms. Leknaat (she was Dutch), had told him he might make more friends if he smiled more and grew back his eyebrows, but he wasn't having any of that. He had his _own_ plan for success. Under Phase One, he'd revenge himself upon his tormentors by filling his DeviantArt account with comic strips of his Dungeons  & Dragons character beating up the basketball team. (Why should anyone care that the Knights were undefeated this season? He hated them, all five of them, and their ball boy too.) Phase Two would be even better. He'd been keeping a list of all the people he hated so that when he was a rich and famous playwright, he'd pay them back. The list had exploded to over one hundred names by now, but he knew someday he'd find a way to make them rue the day they ever crossed paths with him. They would be ruing it all the way down to the fifth circle of Hell. Then they'd rue some more. 

"I wasn't sure how long you would take getting ready, so I made your toast for you!" Sasarai chirped as Luc trudged into the dining room. 

"I hate you." 

"That's okay. Virtue is its own reward!" 

This prompted a switch to "sullen glare." What did his brother think he was, some kind of bishop? "Sasarai is TOO NICE," the principal had even written on his last report card. What a moron. His brother was so stupid and gullible that he even he still listened to stupid MTV pop singers like that Nei ho-bag. But the media couldn't brainwash Luc. Luc only listened to HARD bands, like Howling Voice Guild. He owned their first album _on vinyl_. 

Avoiding any eye contact with his brother, Luc violently ripped his toast out of Sasarai's hands. It slipped right through his grasp and fell on the floor. Sasarai looked appalled. "Goodness, Luc, we're in the ninth grade," he said. "Haven't you learned by now that the magic word is 'please'?" 

Luc stared at the fallen toast. Why did these things always happen to _him_? Goddammit, everything in the universe was conspiring against him! It was filling him with the kind of pain and darkness that could only be expressed in drop D tuning. "EVERY DAY I CRUCIFY MYSELF!" Luc roared, flinging the toast against the wall with all his might. "CUT MY LIFE INTO PIECES; THIS IS MY LAST RESORT!" 

"Could you please pass the marmalade?" 

"NO! STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO!" Luc stormed out of the dining room. Why did they keep trying to brainwash him into becoming another conformist marmalade passer? Why couldn't they just accept him for who he was? He felt like he had to wear a _mask_ every single day. No one saw the real Luc. He had the nagging feeling that even the ducks in the school pond were conspiring against him. How dare they swim around, quacking away without a care in the world while Coach Kenji was making him do extra jumping jacks for being late to P.E.? He was only late because he was re-applying his black eyeliner in the restroom. The ducks should have been out protesting on his behalf, but, no, they probably though it was _funny_. Stupid ducks. 

Slamming every door he passed, Luc fled down the hall and locked himself in the bathroom again. Just last night, he'd tried to cut his wrists in this very sink using a jagged piece of bread. It kinda hurt, so he didn't really cut himself, but think if he had! If he'd died, that stuck-up Pendragon bitch would have finally felt sorry for not going to homecoming with him. 

He heard his dad starting the car. "Boys, it's time to leave!" 

But Luc had made up his mind. He wasn't going to school today because he was leaving high school forever. No one would miss him; they never cared what he thought. Like yesterday when he'd been so busy staring at all the buckles on his boots that he almost fell into a ditch behind the school. Had the construction company _asked_ him if it was okay to put that ditch there? Of course not. Twaikin  & Sons Construction Co. thought they could made all the decisions on their own, just like the Nazis had done. Well, the last laugh was Luc's, because those fascists had earned themselves a spot on his list. 

His mom rapped on the door. "Luc, let's go. Your father's waiting for you." 

"I'm not Luc. Luc killed himself earlier this morning. I'm his long-lost cousin, uh ... Tim." 

" _Let's go_. It's time for school." 

"You know, before Luc died, he told me how much he hated his family and how awful they were to him." 

"Well, if Luc's dead, then I'm sure it's OK if we sell his PlayStation." 

Luc left the bathroom. 

Now in "anguished grimace" mode, he snatched up the Kaiseki Dinner that Sasarai had packed for him and hurried to the garage. Sasarai had already claimed the passenger seat. "Thanks for the ride, Dad!" 

"I have to sit in the _back_?" Luc didn't have to put up with this shit! Sitting in the back was against his rights, or something like that! "I HATE YOU!!!! YOU'RE THE WORST FATHER EVER! I'M GOING TO CUT OPEN YOUR HEAD WITH A ROOFING SHINGLE! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DO THIS TO ME - ARRRRGH!" He kicked the side of the car and stubbed his toe. 

Did his parents think they could control his life like this? "Don't wear that shirt; it has a skull on it." "Do the dishes." "No, you can't carve the anarchy symbol into your ceiling." Fuck you, mom! He was 14; she couldn't tell him what to do anymore! And yet his parents kept expecting him to find a _job_. Everyone should be able to see that someone with his substantial artistic abilities should be writing more plays about vampires instead of having to work at Barts's Grocery. But, no, he had to earn his paycheck like all the conformists at school. It was like his dad wanted him to be some kind of _clone_ or something. Sure, if he got a job, he'd be able to afford that KMFDM t-shirt he'd had his eyes on at the mall. But that was missing the point, which was that he deserved everything in the world for free. 

For once, Sasarai appeared genuinely shocked by his brother's behavior. "Come now, you don't want to be late for Bible study, do you?" To think of such a thing! 

"FUCK YOU!" Luc yelled. He was definitely madly in anger with his brother now. "FEELING LIKE A FREAK ON A LEASH! CRAWLING IN THE DARK, THESE WOUNDS THEY WILL NOT HEAL! MADNESS IS THE GIFT THAT HAS BEEN GIVEN TO ME! CLEANLINESS IS GODLINESS, AND GOD IS EMPTY JUST LIKE ME!" 

"Honestly, now, Luc! Such language!" 

With great reluctance, Luc claimed the back seat and slammed the door. And to make this terrible, horrible, no good very bad day even worse, he'd realized his insect collection for biology, the one he hadn't even started, was due today. Like he wanted he collect a bunch of big ants. He hated bugs, he hated his classmates (even that Juan kid who slept through every class got better grades than he did); heck, he even hated himself. He'd have to add _himself_ to the list. 

But he had a plan. If he returned his overdue _Erk's Adventures_ _manga_ , maybe the librarian would finally speak to him and find him some books on wind magick. He'd already bought some authentic ancient runes on eBay from a guy named cyndar1999, and now, if the school library came through, he'd be able to cast a spell from his bedroom to kill God. Or, failing that, at least he could pretend on LiveJournal that he had. 

Yes, everything was going according to plan. 

The next dream, he was going to _win_.


End file.
